


Day One: Edelweiss

by TheAsexualofSpades



Series: Peggysous Week 2020 [1]
Category: Agent Carter (Marvel Short Film), Agent Carter (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Peggysous Week 2020, we would all go to war for peggy carter let's be real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25631302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualofSpades/pseuds/TheAsexualofSpades
Summary: Edelweiss: Signifies deep love and devotion. Native to the Alps, so those who harvest this flower must face danger to prove that love and devotion.***The war is over. They’re home now. And yet, Peggy still has not stepped foot in a cinema? Daniel’s not having it. Plus, they both could do with a…little reminder, of sorts.
Relationships: Peggy Carter & Daniel Sousa, Peggy Carter/Daniel Sousa
Series: Peggysous Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1857973
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31
Collections: Peggysous Week 2020





	Day One: Edelweiss

**Author's Note:**

> i love them and everything's fine

“I’m not one for the cinema.”

“I know, Peg,” Daniel says, handing her the bowl, “believe me.”

Peggy stifles a laugh at Daniel’s patient exasperation. “I believe Mr. Jarvis had a…similar reaction.”

“Did he?”

“We were at the racetrack, looking for Calvin Chadwick.” Daniel hums. “I didn’t know who Whitney Frost was.”

“Wait, seriously?” Daniel turns off the sink and drapes the towel over the fridge handle. “Peg, her face was on posters _everywhere_ in New York.”

Peggy shrugs. “Like I said, I’m not one for the cinema.”

Daniel just shakes his head with a smile. “And what did Jarvis have to say to that.”

“He asked me if I assemble rifles in my free time.”

Daniel throws his head back, laughing. Peggy glares at him in mock offense, only to have it ruined when she can’t help but smile when he looks at her. He slumps against the counter for support, still laughing. 

“If only he knew,” Daniel murmurs through the last of his chuckles. 

“If only he knew _what_?”

“That you spend your free time reading Agatha Christie and muttering about how stupid the characters are under your breath.”

“It’s not like it’s _hard_ ,” Peggy mutters. 

“Like that.”

Peggy whacks his arm halfheartedly with her own dish towel. “I’ll have you know I’m getting better at it.”

“What, predicting the ending or not getting frustrated with fictional characters?”

“…yes.”

Daniel bumps her shoulder lightly. “Well, call me crazy, but I think that might have something to do with what you do for a living.” He turns around, leaning against the counter. “Long days solving mysteries, chasing bad guys, all you’re missing is a trench coat and a fedora.”

“I’ll have you know I have perfectly suitable hats,” Peggy says, making them both laugh. 

“Seriously, Peg,” Daniel says after they both stop laughing, “if you don’t wanna go, you don’t have to. I just…well, I kinda wanna know why.”

Peggy sighs, making sure none of the drying dishes will topple over as she hangs up her towel. “I suppose I’ve never understood the appeal.”

Daniel shrugs. “Escapism? Momentary reprieve?”

“But the same thing can be accomplished through a book,” Peggy says, “and then I’m not limited by whomever they cast to play the roles. I can let my imagination do the work for me.”

“True,” Daniel says, “but there are some things that words can’t really do when they’re just on paper. Sometimes you need the nuance of spoken word to really get everything out of a certain situation.”

Peggy squints. “Why does this sound suspiciously like how you argued for Dooley to give us the recordings of the interrogations as opposed to just the transcripts?”

The innocent shrug and the look he gives her fool absolutely no one.

Peggy switches tactics, perching one hand on her hip. “Why do you enjoy it, then?”

“I’ve always found them to be a bit better at holding my attention.” Daniel gestures with his hand. “Not just my imagination, but my sight. The sound. The music of it. Helps me flush everything out.”

“A more complete experience, then.”

Daniel nods. “Plus, it’s not just the picture itself. It’s going out, late at night, to see a show. It’s…you know, it’s its own deal.”

He pushes off the counter, taking Peggy’s hands in his. “It’s walking back late at night,” he murmurs, “your head buzzing. Someone special in your arms, both of your hearts still beating fast.”

Peggy smiles when he takes her into his arms. She’s learned that Daniel can be very persuasive when he wants. 

“It’s sitting in a room full of people and only being able to pay attention to the person right next to you.” Daniel rests his chin on her shoulder. “It’s being able to share a story with someone.”

He pulls back, that terribly cocky smirk on his face. “Can’t really do that with a book, now can you?”

Peggy huffs. “Oh, alright.” She raises an eyebrow at Daniel’s childlike excitement. “You’re certainly eager.”

“Come on, Peg,” Daniel laughs, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to her cheek, “let me share a story with you?”

Well, that’s just not fair. How the _hell_ is she supposed to say no to that?

They choose next Friday. Daniel picks the picture, buys the tickets. Peggy picks the restaurant. They discuss the last of the work plans over pasta and garlic bread until Daniel reaches across the table to cover her hand midway through a discussion of their current case. 

“Peggy,” he chides gently, amusement sparkling in his eyes, “no more work talk tonight, okay? Take the night off, please.”

Peggy protests halfheartedly until Daniel gives her those puppy-dog eyes that she swears do not work. 

“Oh, alright,” she relents, “I suppose one night won’t throw us overboard.”

“It won’t,” Daniel promises, “but it will do _you_ some good. Now,” he continues, picking up his fork again, “tell me about the current book you’re reading and how stupid the characters are.”

They make playful jabs at mystery tropes until they’re finished, carrying on as they walk down the block to the theater. The night is young, the sun just setting behind the horizon. The air is still warm from its rays, bathing the street in a soft haze that makes the streetlights glow a little fuzzier at the edges. Peggy finds that as their conversation meanders, she cares less and less about trying to follow it, letting Daniel’s arm in hers hold her steady as they fade into the nightlife. 

“Right here,” Daniel says, sweeping them through the doors. “This way, I think.”

“Have you been here before?”

“Once,” Daniel says, “came with Rose after I lost a bet.”

“You should know better than to take a bet against Rose,” Peggy laughs. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Daniel mutters as they step into the auditorium, “it wasn’t a big deal.”

“What was the bet?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Daniel,” she laughs, poking his shoulder as they sit down, “tell me.”

“Alright, alright.” Daniel lays his crutch out of the way. “It was a stupid filing competition. Who could finish their stack of paperwork first.”

“Why on _earth_ would you take that bet against _Rose_?”

“Because if I could suffer through Thompson and Krezminski’s filing,” Daniel shoots back, “I could damn well suffer through my own.”

Peggy laughs, conceding. The New York office did not exactly have the best reputation for scrupulous filing. “And you lost and came here?”

“Rose wanted to see the noir based on _The Brick Foxhole_ ,” Daniel explains, “it was called ‘Crossfire’ or something.”

Peggy makes a noise of understanding, glancing around. The place is filling up nicely, even though it’s not quite full. Daniel follows her gaze. 

“Normally the shows get fuller as the night goes on,” he murmurs, “picked an earlier time so we wouldn’t get caught in the crowd.”

Peggy nods in thanks, settling into her chair. Soon enough, the lights start to dim and the screen lights up. The film begins to roll and Daniel carefully nudges her shoulder. She looks over to see him staring at her hopefully, his hand laying open in the space between their seats. She tries to pretend she isn’t blushing when he smiles warmly as she takes it. 

It’s dark, she can get away with it. 

As always, her trust in Daniel is not misplaced. The picture is, indeed, a mystery story. Something about a female spy returning from abroad to team up with an older detective, trying to find out what’s happened to her missing husband. The characters, while…limited, perhaps, by the constraints of the medium, are interesting enough that Peggy finds herself furrowing her brow in concentration as she tries to figure out the story before the characters do. She hears Daniel chuckle a few times when nothing funny has happened on the screen and glances over, raising an eyebrow. 

“You’ve got your focused face on,” he whispers, leaning close so as not to disturb the other movie-goers, “you enjoying it?”

“Don’t be smug,” she whispers back. 

“I’m not,” he defends, leaning back a little, the flickering light from the screen showing a warm smile, “I’m happy.”

Unfortunately for Peggy, this time when she turns away, the screen is bright enough that she can’t hide her blush. 

She figures out it was the husband fairly easily. He had faked his own death, it turns out, and has secretly sided with the enemy, becoming the very antagonist the spy and the detective were attempting to vanquish. She does understand what Daniel was talking about; the nuances of the actor’s faces convey things she has no idea how to put into words, the music in the background makes her heart beat faster when tensions rise, and she finds her work instincts taking over, getting frustrated when the camera won’t pan down far enough to let her _see the whole room._

She keeps a hold of Daniel’s hand the whole time. 

Right before the climax, there’s a quiet scene. The spy is standing by the window, looking out over the city. The detective comes in behind her, shutting the door. 

“I don’t know why he did it,” the spy sniffs, folding her arms, “I don’t know why he decided to go off and join the people he signed up to fight.”

“People do crazy things,” the detective mutters, coming up behind the spy, “for crazy reasons.”

“Even go to war?”

Peggy scoffs at the melodramatic delivery. 

“Even go to war,” the detective agrees, looking at the spy. “You know that, right?”

“I don’t expect _you_ to understand,” the spy says, making Peggy scoff again. Honestly. “I went to war because I had nothing. Because it took everything from me and I had to try and take some of it back.”

Oh. 

“And _you_ didn’t go to war,” the spy cries, whirling around to point a trembling finger at the detective, “so how could you know? What would you go to war for?”

“I’d go to war for you.”

Ah. There it is. 

The husband gets caught, the detective kisses the spy, the screen fades out. 

“Well,” Daniel says, turning to Peggy as the other people start to get up, “what did you think?”

“Why didn’t they realize it was the husband when they initially found his draft card?”

Daniel rolls his eyes fondly, getting to his feet, grabbing his crutch, and starting out of the theatre, still pulling Peggy by the hand. She keeps up her ‘review’ of the story as they walk back along the street. It’s cooler now, the breeze ruffling her hair, the indigo sky turning brisk where the streetlights glow amber. They chat idly about the story, what they liked, what they didn’t, lapsing into silence when they run out of things to say. 

Peggy glanced down at their entwined arms. Daniel is warm against the gentle breeze. 

“Peggy?”

They stop, Daniel turning to face her with a look of concern on his face. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes,” Peggy says quickly, “just thinking.”

“Uh-huh.” Daniel squeezes her arm gently. “I know you better than that. Come on, tell me.”

“It’s silly.”

“If it’s worrying you, it’s not.”

Peggy smiles at the sincerity in his voice. “It was one of the scenes,” she confesses, “the one where they were…at the window.”

Daniel curses under his breath. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. I tried to pick a picture where there wouldn’t be a lot of that, but, uh, guess we can’t escape from it.”

“No, no, it’s not that.” Peggy shakes her head. “I just…it reminded me of…something.”

Daniel’s face falls, stepping closer. “I didn’t mean to make you sad, Peg, or to remind you of—“

“Not Steve,” Peggy clarifies, smiling a little when Daniel’s shoulders slump in relief, “just…how I got started.”

Daniel nods, accepting the answer and gesturing to the sidewalk in front of them. Peggy accepts his invitation to keep walking, the slight daze from the movie beginning to sap some of her strength. She leans more heavily into Daniel who comes a little closer to support her, sharing their warmth. 

“I get what you mean,” he says out of nowhere, “about that scene. It, uh, well…it had a good question in it.”

At Peggy’s quizzical look, he elaborates. “About what people go to war for.”

“Ah.”

Yes, well, that is quite a question, isn’t it?

“That was quite the declaration,” she says, trying to lighten the mood, “the detective saying he’d go to war for her?”

“Yeah.” Daniel’s crutch clicks against the sidewalk. “That’s one way to do it.”

“Well,” Peggy murmurs, “let’s hope we never have to worry about that. One war in my lifetime is quite enough for me.”

Daniel chuckles. “I don’t know if I’d say _that_.”

Peggy stops them, frowning. “What on _earth_ does that mean?”

Daniel stops too, turning to face her. “Peg, what does that quote mean to you?”

“Pardon?”

“When the detective said it,” Daniel says, “what did it mean?”

Peggy blinks. “That the detective was willing to go to war for the spy.”

“So she wouldn’t have to or to fight alongside her?”

Peggy’s words die in her throat. Daniel scratches the back of his head and takes a deep breath. When he looks up at her, the trust and faith in his eyes is enough to take her breath away. 

“If working at the SSR has taught me anything, it’s that war isn’t just two sides shooting at each other on a battlefield,” he says. “It’s information, it’s secrets, it’s covert operations and _talking_ and teamwork.”

He gestures between the two of them. “We can fight wars every day at our jobs, just by doing paperwork and making phone calls. Hell, we’ve _fought_ wars by doing that.”

“Daniel,” Peggy says, holding out her hands, “what…what are you saying?”

Daniel takes a step closer. “I’m saying I’ve already _gone_ to war for you, Peg. I fought the whole damn War Department for you. And yeah, I’d do it again.”

He holds out a hand when she opens her mouth. “And before you say anything, I need to tell you that quote means something different for me.”

Peggy closes her mouth, waiting as Daniel comes close enough for her to see the glow of the streetlight reflected in his eyes. 

“I would go to war to follow you, Peg,” he says, “because I know damn well you’re going anyway and I’m sure as hell not stupid enough to try and stop you.”

“Oh, Daniel…”

“Just…” and it’s his turn to blush, the tips of his ears going red as he coughs into his fist. “Let me share the story with you?”

How is she supposed to say no?

Instead, she kisses him, bathed in the warm glow of the streetlight, until neither of them can say anything.


End file.
